


Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men (And Wraiths, Vampires, Fairies, and Demons)

by Maymot97



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Attempted Murder, Blood, Corrupt Politicians, Demons, Hitmen, M/M, Magical Racism, Markiplier egos - Freeform, Murder, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Thomas Sanders Storytime Big Bang Challenge, Thomas as character, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans Male Character, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 22:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15783558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maymot97/pseuds/Maymot97
Summary: When his best friend Patton is the victim of an unsuccessful hit, Virgil Sanders doesn’t know what to think. The reappearance of his twin brother, De, causes Virgil to rethink what he thought he knew about his brother. The sudden appearance of a demon–Damien Fishbach, councilman–soon plunges Virgil into a vendetta against the government that he did not sign up for. Will Virgil be able to work with his brother and the husband of the man who killed his father in order to stop another hit being sent out against Patton? Or will everything be for naught?





	1. Chapter 1

Virgil shuffled behind Thomas as they entered the waiting room. His eyes were glued to the back of Thomas’ heels, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He’d never liked hospitals, human or otherwise. Not since…He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to think about it. A chair scrapped across the floor as they entered the room. He glanced up from the floor in time to see Roman barrel into Thomas, wrapping strong, muscular arms around his shoulders and burying his face in Thomas’ neck. Virgil could just barely hear a sob escape his throat. Virgil looked away.

Sitting next to where Roman had been was a tall, slender person who was watching Virgil extremely intently. His eyes were sharp and slightly squinted, hidden behind glasses with thin black wire frames. His cheekbones were sharp, his lips plush. If not for the reason that they were at the hospital to begin with, Virgil would’ve contemplated chatting him up. As it was he just stared awkwardly.

The man stood up, pocketing his phone as he did so, and walked over to Virgil. He stood roughly three or four inches taller than Virgil, and Virgil realized that “slender” had been an understatement. He was a stick, and almost looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over.

He stuck out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“Virgil.” He didn’t accept the hand shake.

Logan squinted even more. 

Thomas extracted himself from Roman’s embrace and shook Logan’s hand. “I wish we were meeting again under better circumstances.”

Logan nodded and gestured vaguely at Virgil. Thomas smiled at the offended noise Virgil made.

“This is my roommate, Virgil. He and Patton have become good friends since Virgil moved in.” He paused for a second. “Speaking of Patton, any news yet?”

Roman shook his head minutely. “He’s still in surgery.”

Thomas nodded and guided Roman back to his chair, sitting down next to him and whispering words of comfort to him. Virgil watched them for a second, his heart hurting for Roman despite the animosity they had for each other.

“What happened anyway?” he asked Logan, keeping his voice down so that Roman wouldn’t hear. “Thomas refused to tell me.”

Logan seemed to think about whether he wanted to tell Virgil or not, but Virgil fixed him with a glare that said “if you don’t tell me I will punch you.”

He sighed. “Patton was driving home from work, and he was in a car accident. A witness said that they saw the driver of the other car get out after running Patton off the road and shooting into his car.” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “It’s a miracle that he’s survived long enough to get into surgery.”

The blood rushing in Virgil’s ears was deafening. Someone had deliberately tried to kill Patton? Why would—he was the sweetest—who—? Virgil felt his breathing speeding up; his breaths coming in raggedly. The rushing became louder and louder. He was vaguely aware of Logan standing in front of him, hands hovering just above his arms, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. He curled his arms against his chest and pressed them against him, trying to block out the numbness that was creeping through them. The sides of his vision were pressing in, everything going dark—

Logan caught Virgil as he fainted forward.


	2. Chapter 2

_Where was he?_

_Virgil looked down at his phone, checking his messages again to make sure that he hadn’t read the time and place wrong before he sighed and put the phone back in his hoodie pocket. He paced in front of the storefront, feeling his heart begin to beat faster._

_Where was he?_

_Getting tired of standing, having done it for an hour already, Virgil sat down on the sidewalk, ignoring anybody who walked past. He pulled his phone out again, getting ready to text him when someone stopped right in front of him. Virgil glanced up._

_The figure was probably the same height as Virgil. They were wearing all black, and the only parts of their face Virgil could see were bright green eyes, pale white skin, and messy black hair. The rest was obscured by a bandana._

_“Do you need somethi—?”_

_The question was cut off by a slim baton dropping out of the stranger’s jacket sleeve into his hand and the stranger whipping it around to whack Virgil upside the head with it, all in one fluid motion._

_Virgil fell to the side, pain exploding in his skull from the baton and from the concrete. He cried out weakly, but the stranger kicked him in the stomach before hitting Virgil in the head with the baton again. The stranger then immediately stomped off, concealing the baton. Virgil groaned into the sidewalk._

_Where was De?_

Virgil jerked awake, nearly falling out of the chair someone had placed him in. A hand fell on his shoulder and he made to jerk away before looking up and realizing it was Thomas. 

“It’s okay, Virge,” Thomas said, his voice pitched low. “You’re okay. Patton’s going to be okay.”

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean? Is he out of surgery?”

Thomas gestured over next to him. Virgil followed his line of sight and nearly fell out of his chair again as he sees the bed that currently holds a—Virgil shudders as he thinks it—half dead looking Patton. Slowly, he sits up straight in the chair so he can get a better look at him.

The first thing he notices is how pale he is—Patton’s freckles are a stark contrast against the rest of his skin. The hollows under his eyes are dark; his hair lays limp against his forehead. He was, thankfully, breathing on his own. 

Sitting next to the bed, holding Patton’s hand, was Roman. He appeared to have calmed down some, and was reading something on his Nook. He seemed to feel Virgil’s eyes on him and looked up. 

“I didn’t carry you in here,” he said, before going back to his reading.

Virgil rolled his eyes. He hadn’t thought that Roman did. Fairies didn’t touch wraiths unless it was absolutely necessary, and with two other people there who were capable of carrying him, Virgil wasn’t surprised that Roman passed on the opportunity. Just because Patton was different for what he was didn’t mean that Virgil expected Roman to be just as nice to him.

Thomas rolled his eyes at Roman and opened his mouth, probably to apologize for his best friend’s behavior for the millionth time since Virgil became his roommate, but the door to the hospital room opened, cutting him off. Logan entered the room, obviously trying to be as quiet as possible. He was holding a cup of coffee, which he passed to Roman who set his Nook on the bed to be able to hold it. Logan briefly patted Patton’s shin before walking over to Thomas. 

“I’m going to go find a hotel room,” he said. 

Thomas shook his head, briefly glancing at Virgil who rolled his eyes. “No. Come stay with me and Virgil. You shouldn’t have to pay for a hotel room.”

Logan looked conflicted, and his eyes shifted to Virgil who shrugged. Then he nodded. 

“Okay. I think I remember where you live from last time. I’ll meet you both there?”

“Yeah,” Thomas said, clasping him on the shoulder before turning to Roman. “Ro?”

Roman looked up and shook his head. “I’m gonna stay here with him. I-I want to be here when he wakes up.”

Both Virgil and Thomas nodded. It made sense that Roman would want to stay—he and Patton had been together since they were in middle school, literally a couple that made other couples jealous. It would be ridiculous to try and tear Roman away from his partner and everyone knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

They hadn’t been back at the apartment for ten minutes before the knock came on Virgil’s door. He sighed, closing the Tumblr app on his phone before getting up and answering it. He knew who it was going to be before he opened the door.

Standing in the hallway in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a plain blue t-shirt was Logan. With how well put together the rest of him was—hair still slicked back, glasses perfect, not a hint of tiredness in his whole demeanor—Virgil got the impression that Logan was dressed for bed only to hide something from Thomas.

“Can I help you?” he asked, trying not to sound too annoyed. 

Judging by Logan’s raised eyebrow, he failed. Logan quickly recovered his composure. “May I come in?”

Virgil opened the door a little wider and gestured for him to enter, but Logan shook his head. Oh.

“You’re a vampire.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yes, and I would very much like to talk to you, in private, unless you’d like for Thomas to find out.”

“Fine. Come in.”

Logan nodded in gratitude as he walked in, sitting down at Virgil’s desk. Virgil closed the door and turned to him.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Do you have any siblings?”

Virgil’s blood ran cold. De.

“…One,” he said at length, being careful to keep his voice level. “What does this matter?”

Logan looked away from Virgil, keeping his eyes carefully fixed on the desk top. He picked up a pencil and started flicking it between his fingers.

“I’m sorry if I seemed standoffish earlier. I had assumed that you were your brother. It would appear that I am mistaken.”

Virgil said nothing for a minute, simply sitting and watching Logan. Finally he spoke. “You know De?”

“I wouldn’t say that I know him, but I have…encountered him.”

“Is he okay? We haven’t talked in years, and even if we did…”

I haven’t seen him since he didn’t meet up with me that day, Virgil thought.

Briefly nodding, Logan said, “He appears to be healthy and getting adequate rest.”

“But?”

“I do not believe that he is working for reputable people, nor is he one himself.”

“Do you have any evidence for this?”

Logan briefly locked eyes with Virgil, who had to repress the urge to flinch back from the intensity of the stare. 

“I work for the National Council,” he said, his voice cool and level. “I have sources who help me keep tabs on legitimate troublemakers. I have reason to believe that your brother is the hit man who was sent after Patton.”

“What?”

Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He hadn’t seen his brother in nearly three years and he still managed to fuck up his life?

Logan reached forward and briefly took Virgil’s hands in his own. “I think I know who ordered the hit. If I’m correct then it’s almost certain that your brother is the one who attempted to carry it out.”

Tears pricked at Virgil’s eyes. He hadn’t thought that De was going to end up on any good path, but nothing in him would’ve thought that he could be a hit man. Did their mother know? Virgil hoped not. She’d already been subjected to so much heartbreak in the last few years—the murder of their father, her own parents deaths, her sister disappearing—Virgil didn’t think she’d be able to handle one of her only remaining family being a hit man. 

Just as Virgil was going to respond, Logan made a soft, pained whine and released Virgil’s hands. He pushed himself as far away from Virgil as possible, curling into himself as he did so. Virgil caught a glimpse of slightly elongated canines though, and he leaned in closer to Logan. 

“You’re a vampire, yeah?”

Logan nodded. 

“When was the last time you had blood?”

“Yesterday evening. I knew when I made the journey down here that I would not be able to get any until I get back home. I knew I’d just have to tough it out.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and tugged Logan towards him, almost pulling him out of the desk chair.

Logan yelped. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t know how long you’ll be here, and if you go too long without blood, you’ll tip off Thomas. I’m offering.”

Logan’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to do that, Virgil.”

Virgil shrugged, looking off to the side. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve done it. I know how to—“

“Why did you let someone feed? You barely look old enough.”

Virgil didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to talk about the rough hands on his sides, the hot breath against his neck, the pleasurepain that stemmed from such a small bite, the overwhelming need to give his blood to someone again. He didn’t want Logan to know about the risks he took, the strangers he let feed. Didn’t want to think about what this meant for him, that he was asking Logan to do this—was he really trying to help or was he trying to scratch an itch that had just reminded him of its existence?

“Virgil?”

Without looking back at Logan Virgil said, “Just bite.”

He could tell by how tense he was, that Logan was fighting himself. But the hunger and the feel of Virgil’s pulse beneath his fingers won out, and Logan pulled the wrist up to his mouth. He bit down as gently as he could, wincing slightly at the sharp intake of breath that Virgil made. He didn’t have time to think about it, because almost immediately his mouth began to fill with the warm iron tinged liquid. He didn’t drink much, or deeply—only enough to sate for now—but when he pulled back, licking the wounds closed as he did so, he found Virgil staring at him, pupils blown wide.

“Virgil? Are you—?”

Lips were against his, rough and sloppy, before he could finish the question. Logan pulled back in shock, sitting as far back in the chair as he could and he stared at Virgil, who was beginning to look slightly more lucid and more than a little embarrassed. Logan cleared his throat.

“So…”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he laid down on his side, curling up in a ball as he did so. “I’m so sorry. We just met—you don’t need all of that on you—that was uncalled for—I shouldn’t’ve done that—“

Logan reached out and put his hand on Virgil’s side, making sure to keep his eyes on Virgil’s face. “No, no, no. You’re fine, Virgil. I just—was shocked, and you looked more out of it than you should’ve been from that little amount of blood.”

In the low lighting of the room, Logan could see Virgil’s face light up bright red. He was going to say more, words of comfort or an inquiry of why he reacted that way Logan wasn’t sure which, but he wasn’t able to because of a yell coming from down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

In the kitchen they found Thomas, cornered against the counter with a wooden kitchen spoon pointed at a figure in front of him. The figure had his hands raised, one was clutching his left ear, the other was stretched out towards Thomas. 

“Who the heck are you?” Thomas yelled, brandishing his spoon.

The figure tried to say something but was cut off by Thomas yelling again. 

Virgil got up behind the figure and grabbed hold of him, pushing him into the refrigerator…only to let go when the figure’s face morphed into an exact copy of his own.

“De?”

The figure—De—smirked, and was looking like he was going to say something but Virgil quickly reared back and punched him in the nose. Blood squirted out of his nose and his hands flew up to grab at it.

“What the fuck!” he exclaimed bending forward. “What the fuck was that for?”

“‘Cause I haven’t seen you in three years and you decide to show up by breaking into my apartment!” Virgil yelled back, not resisting as Logan pulled him away.   
“Now fix your nose and explain what you’re doing here. And you’d better tell the truth.”

Logan had Virgil sit on the counter next to Thomas, who was standing and looking immensely confused. He became even more confused as, right before his eyes, De’s nose healed and he wiped away the rest of the blood. Thomas glanced up at Virgil, his eyes wide. 

“What is going on?” he asked, his voice shaking. 

Virgil didn’t turn to look at him, instead opting to keep his eyes on De. He frowned slightly, almost looking...ashamed. 

“I’ll...I’ll explain later, Thomas,” he finally said. 

De laughed. “Yes, Virge, you’ll definitely have the opportunity to explain to your human friend.”

“Thought I told you not to lie!”

De raised his eyebrows, a smirk slowly appearing on his face. “Who says I’m lying?”

“I know you. I know how you speak when you lie. You’re lying. What’s going on?”

De stared at Virgil for a second. His eyes flitted to Logan, who didn’t give him any leeway. Finally he deflated.

“I…I’m in trouble, Virge.”

Logan looked over at Virgil. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah. That’s not his lying voice.” He turned his attention back to De. “What did you do?”

“I had a job and…I didn’t finish it satisfactorily. I need a place to lay low.”

“How did you find where I lived?”

De opened his mouth but was cut off by Virgil sternly reminding him, “No lies.”

“…I’ve been following you.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Lovely. Anything this else?”

“No.”

Squinting, Virgil looked over at Thomas. “I’m really sorry about him. He’s always been a menace.”

Thomas nodded, a little dazed. “What is going on?”

“This…this is my brother. De,” Virgil said, his voice timid and quiet.

“…Okay…Why did—he didn’t—face?”

Virgil looked over at Logan, silently beginning him to take over. Logan nodded and gently pulled Thomas away from the counter and out of the kitchen. Behind them, Virgil grabbed De by the nape of his neck and dragged him to follow.

Logan had Thomas sit down on the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of him.

“This is going to be difficult for you to accept, okay?” he started, waiting for Thomas to nod before continuing. “I urge you to ask Patton for confirmation as soon as he wakes up.”

Thomas shook his head. “What are you…?”

“I’m a vampire,” Logan blurted out, just letting the words come out. 

Silence followed the outburst. Thomas blinked slowly, looking from Logan to Virgil—who nodded in confirmation—back to Logan. His mouth opened and closed like a fish and his eyes widened, but before he could say anything he was cut off.

“Nice job on breaking it slowly,” De drawled from next to Virgil.

Logan whirled around to look at De. “Stop. You’re not helping.”

De rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Virgil took this as his cue to step in. He sat down on the couch next to Thomas. 

“De and I are wraiths, Thomas,” he said. “That means we’re shapeshifters. That’s why De’s face changed earlier. It’s actually why my hair is always this really bright purple. I’ve…never actually died my hair.”

Thomas collapsed into the couch. “Why would Patton know about this?”

Logan sighed. “He’s a wizard, and Roman is a fairy.”

“Well, I mean I knew Roman was gay—“

Virgil snorted. “Not that kind of fairy. Like an actual magic, sparkles, sugar for blood fairy, will imprison your soul if you make the wrong deal and he feels like it fairy.” 

Thomas made a small noise in the back of his throat. “Oh.”

De took that moment to pipe up. “Imagine how many times you’ve accidentally pledged your soul to him...”

When Thomas looked up sharply, Logan sighed and shook his head. “It’s very unlikely that you’ve done so, Thomas. I’ve known Roman since we were children. He’s not the type of fairy to do that. His family has some manners.”

“I’m surprised,” De muttered. 

Virgil shook his head at De. “Roman’s a lot of things, but he isn’t one to screw over his best friend. And that is what Thomas is, despite being a human.”

“What...what led Roman and Patton to being part of human society?” 

“Patton is estranged from his family. His…political leanings weren’t considered to be ‘appropriate’ by wizard standards, and he refused to budge on them. So they kicked him out. After that he decided to just, avoid magic contact as much as possible. Being a loyal partner, Roman followed,” Logan explained. “As far as I know, they are both on relatively good terms with Roman’s family, or at least his sister.”

Thomas once again nodded slowly, just to show that he was in fact understanding what was being told to him. “What kind of politics?”

“Whether or not wraiths are considered people,” Virgil answered before Logan had a chance to figure out how to explain it delicately.

“What?” Thomas’ head whipped around to look at Virgil, his eyes wide.

Virgil sighed. How was he supposed to explain this? It would make Thomas upset, and that’s not really something that Virgil tried to do, thought there were definitely times that it happened. Finally he pulled it together enough to answer. 

“Wraiths…are not considered people by the majority of our community. We’re shapeshifters, and no one trusts shapeshifters,” he explained. “For the longest time after meeting, I thought Patton was a werewolf because of how sympathetic he was to our plight.”

“There are werewolves, too?”

Virgil smiled. “Yeah. And demons, but they don’t tend to get involved much.”

“This is a lot to take in.”

“I know,” Logan said. “It’s a world running right alongside yours, oftentimes intertwining with yours, and you didn’t know it existed until just now. We understand if you don’t believe us.”

“I saw what De’s face did. After seeing that I don’t think there’s anyway that I couldn’t believe you.”

Logan smiled. “You’re taking this a lot better than my ex.” He turned to De. “You said something about a job gone wrong. What was it?”

De shifted where he was sitting. “Uh, it was a hit. I didn’t end up killing the target and my boss is gonna be really pissed at me.”

Virgil looked at his brother. “Who was your target?”

De rubbed a hand on his shoulder. “Dunno, just some guy. A wizard I think. Had some kind of falling out with someone on the council, and they wanted him gone. I don’t know any more than that.”

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t believe you. You know exactly who you were sent after, but...” he paused here. “I won’t force you to say anything more about it. Why do you think you’ll be safe here?”

“You’re not gonna turn me in are you? After all I’ve got dirt on you. I could tell them anything.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Thanks. I really appreciate the blackmail.”

De shrugged, leaning over to Virgil and patting him on the cheek. “I know you do, bro.”

Logan butt in. “Which Council member is your boss?”

“Why?” De asked back, sitting up straight. “Is that important?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “One of our National Council members is employing hit men. I need to inform my superiors so they can start watching for more suspicious behaviors. I would say that is fairly important.”

De was quiet for a long minute before he finally spoke. “Isaac Goodman. He’s from New York.”

Logan nodded. “I know him.”

“If you intelligence people start watching him, it’s gonna come out that I ratted on him. You gonna be able to keep me safe if that happens?”

Logan wasn’t sure how to answer, Virgil could tell from the look on his face. He wasn’t surprised. Honestly, it was difficult enough to keep De out of trouble when they were kids—keeping him from being offed by his boss ‘cause he failed a hit? That would be a much bigger challenge. 

“I can’t make that promise,” is what Logan ended up saying. “I will try my best though.”

De snorted. “Fine. Hey, where’s the bathroom in this place?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

De looked about to protest, but, curiously, he didn’t, opting instead to just follow Virgil.


	5. Chapter 5

“You were the one who tried to kill Patton,” Virgil said, as soon as they were both in the bathroom.

De rolled his eyes as he unzipped his jeans and started pissing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t.”

De sighed. “Fine, yeah. I was sent after your friend. The client was offering a lot of money to get rid of him and my boss was perfectly happy with doing it. And the job went wrong. Not entirely because of me, mind you.”

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

De finished and went to wash his hands. “I mean, there was someone waiting there in another car, watching. I could tell from the way he looked that he was demon. I don’t know what he was up to, but somehow he made it very difficult for me to actually do my job. So you can thank whoever he was for your friend still being alive.”

“A demon?”

“Yeah,” De said, before pausing. “I don’t know why he was getting involved. It’s unlike them.”

“Maybe he was friends with Patton?”

De shook his head. “Would’ve had to know about the hit.”

“You need to tell Logan.”

Whirling around from the mirror, De pointed a finger a Virgil and got right into his face. “I’m not telling that intelligence agent anything. He’s friends with him—you’re friends with him! For all I know y’all’re going to conspire to turn me in, and I like my relative freedom okay!”

Virgil pushed De away. “You’re not any more free than you were when we were children, De. You’re still chained to the wizards. Doing their dirty work isn’t a way to get free—it’s a way to get executed. You know they only have wraiths do their dirty work because it gives them someone seen as expendable to put the blame on!”

De paused for a second before pulling back his hand and going to punch Virgil. Virgil caught his hand though and managed to spin De around until he hit the door with a thud. 

“Will you just listen for once in your life?” he asked, his voice loud and higher than it had been in years. “Please. I know that we have our differences, but you’re still my brother. I don’t want to see you executed, but—“

“Look. I know you care, but I don’t so just stop. I’m just doing this for me. It’s a job in our proper society, and Mr. Goodman protects me. Which is more than mom and dad ever did.”

“Did you even know that dad died?”

De went limp in Virgil’s grip. He pressed his forehead against the door and let out a slow breath. He didn’t say anything for a bit.

“Yeah,” he eventually says. “I did. I know who killed him, too.”

Virgil let go of him and took a few steps back. He sat down on the lid of the toilet, and bent forward, cradling his head in his hands.

“Oh my god,” he said, his voice lacking any and all affect to it. “You are just full of surprises tonight, and I think this is the least you’ve lied to me in my entire life.” He looked up at De. “If you know who killed dad why don’t you say something? Turn them in?”

De sneered. “Oh, right. Like someone actually cares for the death of one wraith outside of our community. Even if I turned him in, it wouldn’t make any difference. Dad would still be dead and his killer would just walk free.”

Virgil shook his head. “It’s not right. Mom doesn’t have any closure. Have you even seen her since you left? She’s not doing too good, De.”

“And I’m sure you going to live with the fucking humans is really helping.”

“At least I see her! At least I visit! At least she knows I’m fucking alive.”

De’s mouth snapped shut. 

Virgil breathed heavily for a minute, jumping loudly when there was a knock on the door. Pushing De out of the way, Virgil opened it to find Logan standing there.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, peering in around Virgil. “We heard…noises.”

Virgil nodded. “Everything’s fine. We just had a little argument. Sorry. We can come back down now.”

Logan furrowed his eye brows a little, but didn’t say anything, just stepped aside for them to leave the bathroom. De came out first, inching away from Logan and taking a few steps down the hallway but not going too far. Virgil followed after a second.

“Do you know anyone named Wilford Warfstache?” De asked to Logan, once Virgil emerged from the bathroom.

Logan thought for a minute and then nodded. “Yes, he’s the son of a very powerful demon, and is married to the Council’s demon representative. Why?”

De shook his head. “Nevermind. He’s much too powerful for anything to come of it.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Virgil seemed to understand. “De…”

De smirked. “I told you it wouldn’t do any good, Virge.” He made his way back downstairs, his face gaining the snake skin look that he sported all throughout their teenage years.

Virgil just stared after him, his mouth open slightly. Logan placed a hand on his arm, apologizing softly when Virgil jumped.

“Do you know what your brother was talking about?”

Virgil nodded absently. “Wilford Warfstache killed our dad, apparently.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. And since he’s so powerful, De’s right. Justice won’t come even if we accuse him. Nobody cares about the deaths of wraiths.”

Logan’s hand reached down to Virgil’s and squeezed. “I care. I’m fighting for you guys. There are others out there fighting for you.”

Virgil chuckled. “But who’s listening?”

“Someone will.”

The two just stood at the top of the stairs for a few seconds, jumping into movement only when they heard a knock on the door.


	6. Chapter 6

At the door was an average height man with dark brown, almost black, hair and red eyes that betrayed his species—demon. He was wearing black jeans and a black button down shirt, and was surrounded by a sickening aura. He had the appearance of someone barely clinging to the confines of this plane of reality.

Logan pushed Thomas out of the way as soon as he saw him. “Councilman Fischbach! What are you—?”

“I followed a certain…troublemaker…here. I demand you hand him over to me, Logan. Justice has a meeting with him.”

Logan turned around to look at De, who was trying to escape into the kitchen. With a stern look he stopped.

“Sir, I know that his kind have been a thorn in the council’s side for a long time, but he’s given us—“

“He attempted to kill a friend. I don’t take kindly to that.”

Fischbach forced his way into the apartment, closing the door behind him. His aura filled up the entryway, blue and red glitching around the space, shards of it coming close to Logan and Virgil, both of whom flinched out of the way—Logan knowing first hand what the aura was capable of and Virgil having heard stories of it. 

“I am your boss, Logan. I don’t care what the wraith has told you or who it incriminates. He is responsible for the hospitalization of one of my oldest friends and I refuse to let that slide. I demand you hand him over to me now, or I promise a fate worse than death will befall you.”

Logan put up his hands, hoping to placate Fischbach a little and blurted out, “He was hired by Councilman Goodman.”

Fischbach paused. His aura snapped back to his body to where it was only just a thin layer surrounding him. “What. Did. You. Say.”

“De was hired by Councilman Goodman to perform the hit. If you are going to go after anyone, I think it should be him?”

Fischbach narrowed his eyes. “Are you just trying to keep him safe?”

“I’m trying to both keep him safe and bring out justice.”

Fischbach shifted his eyes over everyone in the entryway, starting with Logan—who met his gaze unflinchingly—then Virgil—who flinched a little bit, causing Fischbach to smirk—from there flicking his eyes up to Thomas—who didn’t react much because he was still very clueless—and finally landing on De. He stared at De for a long time, holding his gaze, his smirk growing as De began to squirm. Eventually, after deciding that De had squirmed long enough, he turned back to Logan.

He let his aura relax away from his body a bit, the blue more prominent as it lazily swirled around him. He cracked his neck.

“Give me a reason not to kill everyone in this apartment right now,” he said to Logan in [Demon language].

“It would hurt Patton,” Logan responded in English. “There would be an inquiry. You’re powerful, but you’re style of…execution…” Thomas flinched at this. “…leaves something to be desired in it’s subtly. You would be found out, and you would most likely be executed for the murder of a vampire and a human. Demons are not above the law. Also, your husband would be very sad to not have you around for you daughter’s graduation.”

Fischbach considered Logan’s reasons for a minute before sighing. “I suppose you’re right. Well then, what do you want me to do?”

Logan cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Fischbach rolled his eyes. “I assumed that you would be going after my…esteemed colleague.”

De poked his head out of the kitchen, eyes wide and shaking his head. “No no no no no. No. That’s a…terrible idea. We don’t need to go after him. There is absolutely no need to go after Councilman Goodman.”

Fischbach narrowed his eyes and pushed between Logan and Virgil, advancing towards De. He reached out and pulled him closer, smirking at how much De was shaking. 

“And why is that, Little Wraith?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, almost as though e was trying to calm De down. “Are you afraid that your boss will come after you if we make a move against him? I can assure you that, should we try this and should you cooperate with us, no harm will come to you.” 

As he finished speaking, his shell cracked a bit, casting the room in blue and red light, a shadow of himself breaking apart from the main shell and lashing out at De, the smile on its face all teeth. De wrenched himself out of Fischbach’s grasp and stumbled back a few steps. 

“There’s no need to be afraid,” Fischbach said, his voice echoing slightly. “I only want to help. I’ve been trying to get rid of Goodman for years. You’ve finally given me a way.”

De’s eyes flicked between Fischbach, Logan, and Virgil. His brother and the vampire weren’t giving any indication of what he should do, and Fischbach was just…attempting…to appear comforting. 

“F-fine,” De spat out eventually. “But if any of the others find out and come after me you have to promise you’ll protect me.”

“De—“ Virgil started, walking towards his brother a few steps only to be stopped by Fischbach. 

“Your brother knows what he’s doing,” Fischbach said, not taking his eyes off of De. “He knows what it means to agree to a demons help.”

De swallowed and set his jaw, nodding rapidly. Fischbach smiled and once again stepped towards him. Once within touching distance, he reached out a hand and caressed the side of De’s face that was covered with snake skin.

“Good, Little Wraith,” he murmured. “Now, let’s get started shall we.”


	7. Chapter 7

All five settled around the table in Thomas and Virgil’s living room. Thomas had offered to made tea, and the only one to accept was Fischbach. He held the mug firmly in his hand and watched the other four closely. He took a sip.

“What is the plan then?” he asked, setting the mug down on the table. 

“Um, we don’t have one?” Logan said. “We weren’t really planning on going after Councilman Goodman, at least not physically.”

Fischbach rolled his eyes. “Logan. Haven’t you learned anything from me?”

“I’ve learned several things from you over the years, Councilman—“

“Damien, please, in these circumstances.”

“—But I’m not sure how that applies to the situation?”

Damien sighed. “I like you, Logan. I also know that you have no love for Goodman. Now, what do you think would be the best method for getting rid of that god forsaken wizard, especially after attempting have one your best friends murdered?”

“Killing him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Logan answered, not looking at Damien.

“Killing him will stop him trying to kill anymore of your little resistance group.”

Logan’s head snapped over to Damien, his eyes wide but guarded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you’ve been keeping tabs on that boy. Tomas, or whatever his name is. The Council finds him a menace, and possibly a danger. I know you’ve been in contact with him. If we get rid of Goodman, you wouldn’t have to worry about his execution order coming from the National Council.”

Logan shook his head. “There has to be another way to get Goodman out of the picture.”

De piped up. “Probably not without one of his more loyal hitmen coming after us.”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked, speaking for the first time in a while.

De scoffed. “You think I’m the only hitman he has on retainer? There’s several more, and some of them are worlds more dangerous than me.”

Damien hummed lightly. “Can you explain them to us? Just a brief run down.”

De sat up straighter in his chair. “So, I don’t know their real names. The most dangerous of them we call Google.”

Damien raised an eyebrow. “Google?”

“He knows everything. Ask him a question, he can give you a correct answer. He’s a vampire, and he stabs people. If you find one of his victims, though, there won’t be any indication of foul play besides the stab wounds. He cleans up meticulously. All you’ll find is a corpse full of stab wounds but no blood.”

Logan was taking notes—on an actual pad of paper. De briefly squinted at him, but his eyes napped back to Damien when the demon snapped his fingers in his face.

“Continue,” he ordered.

De bristled. “Fine, fine.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, Little Wraith.”

“Fine,” De said firmly, rolling his eyes. “The next two are a team. They never take hits separately. One is known as the Author. He’s the one who lures their victims into a trap while his partner—the Host—narrates the whole thing.”

“The Host?”

“Yeah, like ‘radio host’. Anyway, he’s blind, but he narrates the entire kill in really freaky precision. No one’s actually been able to figure out how, but it’s honestly terrifying. Especially since he basically narrates his entire life in the third person. The Author is the one who actually strikes the killing blow.”

“What’s their relation?” Logan asked, not looking up from his notes.

De thought for a minute. “I think they’re brothers. They’re definitely fairies. Always wearing their scarves.”

This made Logan pause and look up. “Fairies don’t usually turn to this kind of work.”

De shrugged. “I don’t know their reasonings. The pretty much stick to themselves.”

Damien nodded, taking in the information. His aura crackled around him slightly, but remained fairly close to him. “Any others?”

“Just one…I don’t know a whole lot about him, though.”

“What’s his code name?”

“King.”

Damien’s eyes narrowed. “King?”

De nodded. “Like I said, I don’t know a whole lot. I’ve only spoken to him once, on the phone. He seemed...too nice. At least for this line of work.”

“How does he kill?”

“Carefully. Like he’s afraid of causing undue pain. But other than that I don’t know what he kills with. I don’t even know for sure what he is.”

Damien nodded. “I need to make a call.”

“Is this really the time?” Logan asked, briefly meeting Damien’s eyes. 

“My son knows all sorts of people. He might be able to shed some light on who this guy is.”

De scoffed. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Damien didn’t say anything as he left the room, only shook his head. 

Once he was gone Virgil looked at De. 

“Why did you have to become a hitman?”

“What the heck, Virge?”

“You know exactly what! And you don’t get to use that nickname anymore. What’s mom gonna think about you hanging around with all these murderers?”

“In case you forgot, I’m also a murder, Virgil! I would think you’d be at least a little happy that it was me who was hired to kill Patton, rather than one of the others.”

There was silence after this statement. 

Logan and Thomas both looked at De, their eyes wide. Thomas quickly looked between De and Virgil.

“Virgil, what does he mean?” Thomas finally asked, after finally finding his voice. “Was he the one who…?”

Virgil refused to meet Thomas’ eyes but nodded.

“How…how long have you known?” he asked, voice small. 

“I figured it out when he was telling us about the hit that went wrong. He confirmed it when we were in the bathroom.”

“Were you going to tell us?”

Virgil flinched. “Maybe. I don’t know. If Fischbach hadn’t showed up…” He looked up at Thomas. “I don’t know, Thomas.”

“Don’t you care about Patton?”

“Of course I do! But De’s my brother…and yeah he’s done some messed up shit, but…”

Thomas didn’t say anything after Virgil trailed off. He just pushed away from the table and left the room. He made his way upstairs, his footsteps the only sound in the whole apartment.

“Wow, thanks, bro,” De said, sounding impressed. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, De.”

Through this whole exchange, Logan had been silent. His face was blank and he wasn’t looking at Virgil or De. Virgil glanced over at him, keeping his head low and not meeting Logan’s eyes, unconsciously showing deference to the vampire.

“Are you mad at me too, Logan? Are you gonna storm off and make things super awkward also?”

Logan as silent for another second, but he shook his head. “No,” he said. “I understand that, no matter how bad your relationship with De has been over the past few years, he’s still your brother and you feel responsible for him. I’m a little sad that you didn’t tell me, but that was your choice and I need to respect that. Thomas will too, he’s just had a lot thrown at him today.”

Virgil nodded, and was going to respond but was interrupted by Damien coming back in.

“My son thinks he knows who King is,” he said, still looking at his phone. “We’re meeting them in about an hour.” He looked up when he was done talking, taking in the lack of Thomas at the table. “What happened?”


	8. Chapter 8

They left Thomas and Virgil’s apartment without Thomas, who refused to come with them. Virgil was the only one who knew where they were heading to meet Bim, Damien’s son, so he gained the dubious honor of driving the tense party of four. It was about a forty-five minute drive to where they were going—some coffee shop in a neighboring city—and it was spent in complete silence. 

Virgil and Logan were in the front, and kept stealing glances at each other, trying to telepathically share the intense discomfort they felt. In the back of the car were De and Damien, who was watching De very closely. 

After what felt like an eternity they finally parked in a parking lot across from the coffee shop. Once out of the car, Damien put his hand on De’s shoulder in such a way that was both casual and possessive. He took the lead as the group headed inside, guiding De along as though he was afraid he was going bolt. 

Probably would if given the chance, Virgil thought. 

In a corner of the coffee shop sat a young man—probably in his early twenties with dark brown hair and demonic red eyes, who Virgil recognized as Bim, Damien’s eldest child and only son—who was conversing with another man, a few years older with an...acorn tattooed on his left shoulder. He wore glasses and was clean shaven. Bim looked up as the group entered the coffee shop and smiled as he caught sight of Damien. 

“Dad!” he shouted over the din of conversation in the coffee shop, waving Damien over. 

Damien smiled, a true genuine smile, not one born of malice, and guided the group over. Once he reached his son, he leaned down and lightly kissed the top of his head. The group sat down at the table. De eyed the man with the acorn tattoos warily. 

“You didn’t mention that the person we were looking for was your boyfriend,” Damien said, voice accusing and directed at Bim, who shrugged.

“You didn’t ask how I knew him."

“You’re King?” De asked, not trying to let his disbelief sink into his voice. 

The man nodded. “And you are?”

“Deceit.”

King nodded, recognition finding a home on his face. “Yes, of course. The Whore. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of working together.”

De bristled at the term “whore,” but before he could say anything about it, Logan interjected. 

“We may require your help.”

King raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I don’t usually get contacted directly for hits. You may need to go through my boss—“

“How loyal are Councilman Goodman?” Damien asked, cutting to the chase. 

Logan sighed. “Way to be subtle.”

King and Bim shared a look. Bim reached over and grabbed one of King’s hands. 

“Why?” King asked.

Damien leaned forward, a slightly feral smile forming on his face. “Because he ordered a hit on a friend of mine, and I can’t let that happen.”

King sighed, and refused to meet Damien’s eyes, focusing on De. “I…hold no love for the councilman. However…he’s not going to be easy to take down. Even with me and the Whore—“

“Stop calling me that!” De snapped.

King raised an eyebrow. “Why? It’s accurate to how you usually do your hits. You whore yourself out. Even to Goodman.”

De sat up straight in his chair. “That’s not true! I don’t care what he says. I’ve never slept with him. And you’re one to talk…”

“But you don’t deny that you sleep with your hits? Seduce them and kill them when they least expect it?”

“What would you know you little—“

“Gentlemen.”

Both looked over at Damien, who was watching them, a small smile twitching at his mouth.

“As amusing as this is to watch, I don’t believe that this is the time or the place for you to be airing your grievances. Understand?”

King nodded, shifting ever so slightly towards Bim. De just huffed and sat back in his chair, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Thank you. Now, why do you suspect that we’ll have difficulties.”

“The Host and the Author probably already know that we’re plotting something, even if they don’t know the specifics.”

“How would they know?” Logan asked.

King turned to look at him. “They just know things. No matter how well you think you’re keeping something a secret, they will know. The Googles also probably know.”

“Googles? Plural?”

“Did Deceit not tell you that there was more than one?”

De sunk into his chair some more. “I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

Virgil reached over and placed a hand tentatively on his brother’s shoulder, anticipating being pushed away. De didn’t react to his touch. “You told us what you knew, De,” Virgil said. “That’s all we asked for. I’m proud of you for doing that.”

De glanced at Virgil out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks, Virgil. That means a lot.”

King cleared his throat. “Yes, Googles. There are four of them. Identical quadruplets. Only one of them actually does the killings—the oldest, Quinn. The other three help with surveillance and compiling information. They are very good at finding out all information, especially information you don’t want anyone else to know about. They undoubtedly know all of our real identities and the best ways to blackmail us. I wouldn’t cross them.”

While he was talking, Bim had gradually leaned closer to King and wrapped an arm around one of King’s, leaning against him. When King mentioned blackmail, Bim squeezed his arm tightly causing King to look down at him and place a reassuring hand on him. The “I wouldn’t cross them” was directed more at Bim than at anyone else.

“If we went against Goodman,” Logan started, leaning towards King and Bim, “would you help us?”

King didn’t even pause to think before he answered. “In a heartbeat. I would love to get rid of him.”

His phone rang. His face paled as he recognized the ringtone. Without giving any sort of explanation to the others, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, answering it. 

“Hello, Councilman,” he sad, his voice even, despite the thinly veiled look of terror in his eyes. “Yes, sir. Yes, of course. I’d be more than happy to do so. Of course. Thank you, sir.”

He disconnected the call and sighed. “That was Goodman.”

“What did he want?” Damien asked.

“I am to rectify the mistake made by De. By tomorrow evening. He said that he’d meet me at the graveyard when I call to say that it’s done.”

“Wow, what a way to be cliché,” De muttered, causing Virgil to laugh.

Logan rolled his eyes. “It makes sense to me. Graveyards are generally secluded areas. I guess we need to make our way to the hospital then?”


	9. Chapter 9

The group paused on their way down the hospital hallway, towards Patton’s room. There was a man—tall with jet black hair save for one stripe of blonde in the front and bandages wrapped around his face—standing guard. He was clean shaven and wearing a tan, hip length leather jacket. He turned to face the group. 

Logan shared a glance with King, who nodded.

Breaking off from the group and approaching the man, Logan asked, “Are you the Host?”

“The Host extends a hand to Mr. Sanders, smiling as he does so,” the man said, doing as he narrated. “It is good to meet you. The Host assumes that you are here because you wish to protect Patton from death?”

Logan nodded. “Yes. May I inquire as to why you are here?”

“The Host was told to be here to ensure that King fulfills his job and succeeds in killing Patton. However, the Host and the Author know of the beginnings of a plot—“

Behind Logan, King muttered a soft “I told you.” Logan ignored it.

“—against the councilman.”

“Are you here to stop us?”

Stepping out of the door to Patton’s room was a man—identical to the Host except for his haircut—wearing a black hoodie, a wide black scarf despite the summer heat, and jeans, who said, “The opposite actually.”

“The Host and the Author extend their services to Mr. Sanders and Councilman Fischbach to help in the disposal of Councilman Goodman.”

Logan had just processed the words spoken when the light’s in the hallway went off. The power itself had not been cut—one could still hear the hum of the air conditioning and various machines—but everything had been plunged into pitch blackness.

“What happened?” came Roman’s voice from inside the room. The sentiment was echoed by many people in the hallway, along with several nurses. 

Logan turned back towards the group, picking out Damien’s form quickly. His aura flashed and crackled around him, reaching out to the walls, traveling along the floor. The tendrils disappeared into various nooks and crannies in the wall, stretching along until they only barely seemed to be attached to Damien. A couple of the tendrils seemed to disappear into the walls themselves. Damien’s eyes went black for several seconds before returning to their normal red.

“Damien…?” Logan asked, walking back in his direction.

“We need to get out of here,” Damien said, voice quiet and tight. “Go gather Patton and his boyfriend.”

Virgil didn’t wait another minute before going into Patton’s room, Bim and De following him. 

“What’s going on?” Logan asked.

Damien shook his head. “There’s no time to talk. Just help get Patton.”

“He’s not going to be in any condition to travel.”

Locking eyes with Logan as Roman came out of the room carrying Patton while Virgil pushed the IV bag stand—Bim and De following behind carrying any bags that Roman had, Damien said, “This might be the only way to keep him alive.”

Off in the distance the elevator dinged. Damien’s head snapped towards the sound, turning at an inhuman angle. Everybody remained quiet as he listened, his body flickering and a red and blue version of himself phasing in and out of the central, gray, body.

“We need to leave,” he said, his voice quiet but echoing. “Now.”

“Who’s coming?” Roman asked, gently shifting Patton to an easier position to carry. 

“The Host is certain that it is Google. One of his brothers must have shut off the lights. It appears that our boss does not trust King to fulfill his orders.”

King shrugged as he walked back over to Bim, reaching out to take one of Roman’s bags from him. “He’s right to, but I’ve never given him reason.”

The Host turned his head in King’s direction, eerily lining up the bandages on his face with King’s eyes. “The Googles know more than even the Host and the Author do. It is unreasonable to think that they would not be aware of your disloyalty to the councilman, especially since you flaunt him in public.”

Bim glanced away from the group.

Damien turned back to them. “We need to go now. You can debate this when we are safe.”

Everybody looked significantly chastised and made their way to the stairwell on this side of the building. They made their way, Roman being sure not to jostle Patton too much as they did. The whole group was about two flights down when they met someone in a green t-shirt with glasses at a landing. 

“Where do all of you think you’re going?” he asked, smiling, flashing his fangs.

King stepped forward. “Please let us go, Alex. I know you, of all your brothers, don’t have any love for the councilman. Why are you—“

The person, Alex, reached up and slapped King. “You don’t understand, Seth. You don’t understand anything. Not about me, not about my brothers, not about the councilman, and especially not about this world. You don’t understand who you work for and who you are betraying. I doubt you even know why you’re betraying him.”

King straightened up from and held his hand against his cheek. “I understand plenty.”

Alex quirked an eyebrow, glanced at the group, and within seconds had King pinned to the wall, hand over his mouth holding his head to the side and fangs buried deep in his neck.

It took a second for anyone in the group to react. It was Logan.

Faster than anyone would’ve expected from him, Logan was next to King and Alex, pulling Alex from him, and pinning Alex to the floor. Moving fast enough that the other vampire was unable to counter him, Logan pushed his head in the floor, cheek first, hard enough that he was forced to arch his back to keep from snapping his neck.

“What would your boss say if he knew you were intending to kill a human?”

Alex buckled against Logan, trying to knock him off. “He’d congratulate me.”

Logan pressed down harder. He was close to snapping Alex’s neck—not a difficult feat for a vampire—but was stopped by a white pain in his back, dragging him off. Before he was laid flat on his back he caught glimpse of a crackling red, blue, and black tendril wrapping around Alex’s body. Then he slammed into the ground. 

“We don’t need blood on your hands, Logan,” Damien muttered as he walked past. 

With help from Virgil, Logan sat up. His eyes settled first on Roman and Bim kneeling around King, Roman putting pressure on the bleeding in his neck while Bim cradled his head in his lap and muttered something in the demon language—Logan suspected it was a spell of sorts, a hypothesis that was supported by the bleeding easing up and the holes beginning to knit themselves back together. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he halfway registered that the Host was now the one cradling Patton gently against his chest, softly narrating the events. Logan couldn’t focus on them, however. His eyes were trained on Damien.

Alex was being held firmly against the wall by tendril’s of Damien’s aura. One tendril was anchoring him to the wall, another was looped around his throat. They were both crackling with blue and red bolts, tho Alex seemed to pay no mind to them. The air around Damien seemed to go pitch black, until the only visible thing in the landing was Damien and Alex. 

Damien didn’t give Alex time to talk. There was no allowance for villain speeches, no asking after motives. Only a quiet, deathly calm statement, “Your boss will have to learn not to cross me,” before a third tendril broke off from the writhing mass of Damien’s aura and seemed to reach into Alex’s chest, reappearing shortly after, Alex’s heart clutched in its grasp. Alex went lax in the aura’s grip. Damien let him go, staring apathetically at his body on the floor before turning back to the others, his aura quickly retreating back into his body.

“We’re leaving,” he said, giving no room for argument, his voice doubled, betraying the calmness of his appearance.


	10. Chapter 10

Virgil turned his key in the lock, praying that the noise wasn’t too loud so as to set Thomas on edge. He slowly pushed open the door, looking around before gesturing for everyone to follow.

Roman and Logan took Patton up to the guest room, making sure to stay quiet. Everyone else piled into the living room. The Host stood awkwardly in the corner, narrating the going ons quietly but radiating discomfort. His brother sat on the floor next to him, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. Despite the appearance of being asleep, Virgil knew that he was anything but.

Bim and King—Seth—sat down the couch, Seth wasting no time in curling up next to Bim, face in his shoulder. Soon soft snores could be heard coming from him. Damien rolled his eyes at them before wandering off to find a bathroom and wash what little of Alex’s blood got on him off. 

Virgil settled into the soft cushy, slightly overstuffed recliner in the corner of the room that’d he’d claimed as his own shortly after moving in two years previous. He brought his legs up into the chair, curling the rest of his body around them and sighing, finally letting the stress of the day pour out of his body. 

He’d been sitting in that chair the day that he’d met Patton and Roman. He’d only been Thomas’ roommate for a couple of weeks, and, in order to get him acclimated to the apartment, Thomas had been going out with his friend’s instead of inviting them over. That night, however, it was decided that Virgil was acclimated enough that Thomas’ friends could come over.

_Virgil knew what Roman was immediately—not by any tells he gave off, but because he’d seen Roman in various news articles along with his parents since childhood. His father was a high ranking fairy councilman. You’d basically have to be completely cut off from any news outlets to have not heard of Antonio Rodriguez and his son._

_The scarf also gave him away._

_Patton had immediately been kind and overtly affectionate towards him before going to help Thomas in the kitchen, but Roman held off. He eyed Virgil warily, before extending a hand towards him._

_Virgil, also wary, accepted it._

_Roman sat down on the couch, elegantly crossing his legs, appearing as though he was about to be interviewed about his father’s thoughts on wraiths and their rights._

_Virgil continued to watch him. “Tú eres Roman Rodriguez.”_

_Roman jumped as though electrocuted. “¿Me conoces?”_

_“No. Sé de ti.”_

_“You know of me?”_

_Roman blinked rapidly at Virgil, who nodded._

_“I know of you and your father.”_

_Roman’s eyes widened in realization. “You’re one of us!”_

_Virgil’s mouth quirked up in a snarl and he looked away, a habit that he had developed as a kid when around wizards and fairies. “Not exactly ‘one of you’…”_

_Roman seemed to make at least part of a connection. “So you’re a werewolf? You have all of your rights now, there’s no need for you to be wary around me.”_

_Virgil huffed out a laugh. “I’m going to ignore that you’re so far up your ass that you think the Council saying that werewolves are actually people is going to change anything in any amount of time. Either way, no. I’m not a werewolf.”_

_Immediately, Roman’s face hardened and he looked away, his eyes focused on the television in the corner of the room._

Virgil blinked rapidly, getting out of his thoughts as Logan sat down next to him.

“You looked out of it,” Logan said, his voice pitched low, so that the others wouldn’t here them. 

Virgil shrugged. “I was thinking of the first time I met Roman and Patton. Roman was the last person I’d expected Thomas to be friends with, honestly.”

“You already knew him?”

“From our news. All Thomas had told me was that they knew each other from community theater, he was really into Disney, was super dramatic, and in Thomas’ words ‘hella gay.’ I didn’t know that he was going to be Roman Rodriguez, the son of literally the worst fairy councilman.”

Logan nodded. “I wanted to ask you something. About earlier when you allowed me to…feed.”

“Oh.”

Neither made eye contact. Logan fidgeted slightly, an action that Virgil noted seemed out of place on the relatively stoic man.

“You said I wasn’t the…first…to feed from you.”

Virgil shook his head. “No, you weren’t.”

“Did—“

“No one forcibly fed from me, Logan.”

“But?”

“I wasn’t ready to cut ties with our society yet, but y’know it’s hard for a wraith to get a proper job. So, I became a blood whore.”

Logan’s eyes snapped over to Virgil. 

“I was depressed and it…it didn’t make me feel alive, but it made me forget my circumstances. I…”

Logan nodded. “You got addicted.”

“Yeah. I thought I’d broke it, but when I let you feed it just felt so good. Part of my brain was screaming at me that I had to let you feed. I needed it.”

“I’ve heard its an incredibly difficult addiction to break. You shouldn’t feel ashamed, Virgil. These things aren’t linear. No one is expecting you to break these things immediately.”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sorry I kissed you afterwards. That wasn’t called for.”

Logan reached over and placed a hand on Virgil’s knee. “I didn’t find it unpleasant, I just would’ve appreciated being asked first.”

For the first time Virgil looked over at Logan, finding a small smile on his face. He returned the smile.

“So what do we do now?” Damien asked as he walked back in the room, his voice breaking the tired silence of the room. 

Everyone turned to look at him, sans Seth who was still asleep curled up in Bim’s lap. No one answered immediately, instead just kind of looking around at each other. Eventually Logan locked eyes with Damien.

“We’re still going after the councilman, yes?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Logan smirked. “Then we meet him in the graveyard like we were supposed to.”

Damien looked around, getting nods from everyone—even a sleepy nod from Seth who had managed to wake up during the exchange.

He looked back at Logan, smiling, his teeth bared and his mouth seemingly too wide for his face. 

“Perfect.”


	11. Chapter 11

The plan was made.

They were gonna drop Seth and Logan off a few blocks from the cemetery. Seth was still a little weak from Alex’s attack—especially since he was human, a revelation that had shocked De but literally nobody else—so Logan was going with him as essentially a shield. The rest—Damien, Virgil, De, and the Host and the Author—-were going to park the car a little ways away, wait for ten minutes and then walk to the cemetery. Or “walk.”

One of the perks of Damien being a demon was that he was able to teleport himself and up to five other people short distances. So rather than walking, they were going to teleport a series of short distances to more quickly traverse the distance they needed to. Damien had attempted to explain how it worked, but the Author threatened to hit him with his baseball bat if he continued.

Once they got to the cemetery, Damien was going to subdue Goodman and take him to his “domain.” Or to his husband. Whichever was easiest.

That was the plan.

…

Y’know that saying: “The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray”? 

Yeah they need to add demons, wraiths, vampires, and fairies to that. 

 

“I blame you, to be perfectly honest,” Virgil quipped as he struggled to get up from the tombstone that he’d been unceremoniously thrown at—thrown through.

“Why is this my fault?” Damien groaned from a few yards away, draped over a large marble cross.

“It was your plan,” De said, from right beneath him. “It was your plan and you fucked it up.”

Damien rolled his eyes and got off the cross. “Seth was in my way. I’d rather not face my son’s…temper…had I harmed his boyfriend.”

Virgil, in a rare fit of anger, got right in Damien’s face and snarled. “Well now Logan is gone and is probably going to be harmed, all because you couldn’t stand to harm one person even a little bit. Even if it meant keeping a corrupt man out of our politics.”

A crackling blue and red tendril of Damien’s aura lashed out and pushed Virgil down, pining him to the ground by his throat.

“Listen,” he said, a dark shadow enveloping the air around the two of them. 

The grass beneath Virgil’s back disappeared, as did the gravestones and the others. All Virgil could hear was the blood rushing in his ears and a high pitched, nearly screaming whine that seemed to coming from Damien. He tried to look around, tried to fine something familiar to focus on, but he had no such luck. The only thing around them was dark stone, rough and unforgiving against his back, and the nearly suffocating blackness of the room. There was almost no light at all, only the red and black that crackled through Damien’s aura, and a strange white light that separated Damien from his surroundings.

Without letting go of Virgil, Damien turned on his heel and walked several feet away from him before turning and sitting on a throne made from the same stone as the rest of the environment. Once he sat down, he sharply retracted the tendril of aura. Almost immediately, Virgil rolled on his side and began coughing.

“I don’t appreciate being told things I already know, little wraith,” he said, his voice echoing and overlapping in a way that was not only the doing of the room around him. “Especially not in front of my underlings.”

Virgil got up on his forearms, breathing heavily, but still not facing Damien. “Your underlings?”

“You think those twins are working with us because they hate Goodman this much? Of course not. They’ve been working for me for months.”

“So you’ve known that Goodman is hiring hit men for a while now,” Virgil confirmed as he stood up, shaking his head. Damien didn’t answer. “Where are we anyway?”

Damien smirked. “We are in my domain. I figured it would be best to have this conversation in private.”

“You didn’t want De to know about the Host and the Author?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I expected more from you, little wraith.”

A tendril of aura wrapped around Virgil’s waist and jerkily carried him to just in front of Damien’s throne.

“I don’t care what your brother knows about them. He doesn’t concern me. What you’re willing to do to save Logan, however…That does interest me.”

The aura let go of him. Virgil stumbled a little bit but stayed on his feet. He looked up at Damien, meeting his eyes without fear. Damien smiled, his mouth pulled wide and his teeth bared, seemingly sharper than usual.

“Kneel, little wraith.”

 

De stared at the spot on the ground where his brother had been. He could hear the Host muttering on the ground next to him—his bandage had been torn off and his eyeless, lidless sockets stared blankly at the sky as he gently spoke, not having much to narrate besides his twin’s breathing and De.

De.

There was a crunch of leaves behind the three of them in the cemetery. De and the Author both looked towards the sound, De nearly falling over in the process.

“Oliver froze as the leaves beneath him crunched, looking up at the three people he was walking towards, hands raised to placate, or perhaps to surrender. Oliver wasn’t quite sure,” the Host narrated quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, De saw the Author relax, though he still held the bat at the ready.

“Who is Oliver?” De asked, squinting towards the figure in the distance that he could only barely see.

“One of the Googles,” the Author answered. “But he’s on our side.”

Cautiously, Oliver approached them, hands indeed raised at about chest height. He was identical to Alex, except he had a softer look to him. His face was slightly rounder, as were his stomach and legs. As though he didn’t see as much field time as his brothers. 

The Author approached him and embraced him as soon as he was within reach. De wasn’t about to trust Oliver until he had proof.

“—embraces his partner,” the Host’s narration ended.

Well.

That was probably enough evidence.

Before Oliver could say anything, however, De asked the only question that he wanted an answer to: “Where’d Damien take my brother?”

The Author stepped away from Oliver, releasing him from the hug but not ceasing contact altogether. One thing that De had noticed about the Author was that he was extremely tactile, almost always touching someone (most commonly his brother). 

“He’s probably taken him to his…’realm,’” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s where the councilman can…negotiate…freely without being interrupted.”

“Negotiate?”

“Torture,” Oliver supplied.

De jumped up. “What did Virgil do to warrant that?”

“Virgil challenged Councilman Fischbach in front of his underlings, which is not something that the councilman tolerates,” the Host…narrated? De wasn’t sure.

“His underlings?”

“My brother and I.”

De dramatically turned around, his hands in his hair and just generally being overdramatic. “So you’re working for him? And you didn’t think that Goodman would find that out? You thought he’d think you were loyal? Are you insane? He almost certainly knew because of that and you…” he trailed off, before he crumpled to the ground, cradling in his head in hands.

“Why do you care so much?” Oliver asked.

De turned his head to look at him. “What do you mean? He’s my twin brother—“

“When you became a hit man for Goodman your first hit was your brother. You didn’t have to kill him, just beat him up, enough that he’d need medical attention. You took the order without complaint. You executed the order happily. You’ve been Goodman’s lap warmer for four years now. Why do you care so much?”

De stared at the graves in front of him. His mind went back to that day—he was supposed to be meeting up with Virgil anyway. When Goodman had told him to go prove himself, to assault his own brother—soft hands caressing him, promising him a better life, whispering words into his ears that he would soon discover to be false—De hadn’t protested. He gladly agreed to it. 

“I-I care,” he said, “Because I have regretted that day ever since.”

Oliver nodded. “Unfortunately, you’re only going to get your brother back when Councilman Fischbach decides.”

“So what now?” the Author asked, resting an elbow on Oliver’s shoulder.

“We go after Goodman,” De said, not hesitating at all. “We go after Goodman and we finish this goddamn horrible mission.”

The Author nodded in agreement, grinning widely as he spun his baseball bat.


	12. Chapter 12

Isaac Goodman was not someone many people trusted. He was not well liked, but he voted on the National Council in favor of many high ranking wizard families, so they protected him. This protection, he’d found out, came with certain caveats. He was required to perform certain duties for these families—mostly taking out undesirable family members or political rivals. Goodman had taken to this duty without complaint.

In fact, he seemed to take on the duties with an almost…glee.

Though, even he had to admit that sometimes jobs just aren’t worth the money.

Looking down at Logan Sanders—that nosy little investigative vampire—and Seth—his own hitman, his own bedwarmer—Goodman had to concede that this job was one of the more tedious ones in recent years. He knelt in front of Seth, reaching out a hand to cup his jaw and force him to look at Goodman.

“You really thought, that after all these years of working for me, knowing how I operate, you could pull one over on me?” he asked, his voice low and calm, the voice he used for when he was forced to do a job himself. 

Seth shuddered and attempted to jerk his head out of Goodman’s grasp, but found the hand around his jaw tightened swiftly and without mercy, causing him to cry out.

“What were you hoping to accomplish? There are more out there—more officials who employ hitmen, more who have wizard families in their pockets and vice versa. Getting rid of me won’t get rid of your so called ‘problem.’ You’ll always be fighting us.”

He turned to Logan. “Logan. It’s wonderful to finally meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances. It’s too bad really, that you aren’t going to make it through this. Would’ve liked to steal you away from Fischbach.”

Logan didn’t look at the councilman, and wasn’t forced to do so, so he remained staring intently at the wall in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Goodman shake his head and stand up, the older man’s knees popping loudly as he did so.

“At first I was surprised that Quinn didn’t stop you at the hospital,” he said, not talking to either of them in particular. “But when he confirmed that Fischbach was helping you, well, it all made sense. He’s been trying to counter me for so long, ever since he took Wilford away from me, though the lunatic was beginning to outlive his usefulness. I wouldn’t even think of employing him nowa—“

“Are you just going to stand there and give us a villain speech?” Logan asked, the words almost forcing themselves out of him. 

Goodman’s attention settled on Logan. He went to stand right in front of him, placed a hand in his head, and dragged Logan to his knees. Logan winced but refrained from saying anything further.

“I know you’re a good pet, Logan,” Goodman hissed. “But even the best pets can be disobedient at times. You wouldn’t want your master to find out that you’d been bad would you?”

Logan didn’t answer. Goodman let go of his hair and pushed him back to the ground.

“Now then, boys, let’s get started.”


	13. Chapter 13

Virgil groaned against the floor, the rock rough and cool against his overheated skin. The sound of Damien’s shoes echoed around him, the clack clack clack against the floor incredibly loud to Virgil’s ears. The sound of his own screams still echoed around the space. The shoes stopped.

Virgil made the mistake of attempting to stand up. Once he was up on his elbows he was he felt a heavy weight press down on his back, briefly knocking the wind out of him as he hit the floor again.

“Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” Damien asked, removing his foot from Virgil’s back, though he left the tendril of aura that had aided in pushing him back down.

“You know what they say,” Virgil gasped out. “Can’t teach a wraith anything.”

Damien rolled his eyes. “Very funny. I think this ends our lesson. Wouldn’t want you dying on me, now would we.”

He eased up his aura and allowed Virgil to stand. He watched the wraith stand, watched him wobble a few times before finding his balance, and watched as he “reset” his appearance to his “default.”

“Y’know that’s one thing people don’t like about wraiths,” he commented. “You never know what they actually look like.”

“We look how we look. There are only certain things we can change.” Virgil gestured towards his face. “All of this is pure testosterone therapy.”

Damien exhaled roughly through his nose and smirked. “You bounce back fast.”

Virgil shrugged. “You learn to take a beating, growing up a wraith. Wizards don’t give a shit, no matter how old you are. So, you learn to deal with it.”

Damien didn’t say anything in response, simply grabbing Virgil by the arm. “It’s probably about time we get back. It’s been a couple of hours, who knows what your brother has roped my men into.”

 

The graveyard was empty. The only trace of anything that had gone down being the more or less smashed graves and the occasional scorch mark. Really, what had they been thinking going up against a wizard? Especially one as powerful as Goodman. 

“They left,” Virgil said, his voice level, though Damien could feel the undercurrent of pain and fatigue. 

“It would appear so. Probably going to attempt to confront Goodman on their own.”

“So we should follow them?”

Damien nodded, but took out his phone. “I need to make a call first.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and glared. “We don’t have time for that.”

“We don’t have time to not call this person,” Damien snarled, his aura lashing out at Virgil. “We’ll be lucky to survive without his help.”

There was no more arguing. Damien walked off a couple of yards and the phone call was hushed so Virgil could not hear.

“He’s going to meet us here and then teleport us to Goodman’s office or house or whatever.”

Virgil jumped when Damien suddenly started talking, and was going to ask who was meeting them when nearby in the cemetery there was a loud pop and Virgil was slapped in the face with the smell of…burnt bubblegum? He turned around to find a man with dyed pink hair, a pink mustache (that had been gelled to look like it was curled at the tips), and wearing a yellow button down with a pink bowtie, khakis, and light pink suspenders. He was tucking a gun into the back of his pants.

“Darky,” he called, his voice drawling as it carried over the graveyard. “What trouble have you gotten into this time?”

Damien rolled his eyes and faced the newcomer. “Wil, now is not the time. We just need your help.”

Wil smiled broadly, and pressed his hands into either side of Damien’s face, pulling him into a kiss that left Damien smiling softly when he pulled away. “I’m always here to help, love.” 

He turned to Virgil. “So who is this?”

Virgil didn’t answer immediately. He’d seen this man before, mostly in news reports, appearing at Damien’s side in pictures. Virgil had never really paid that much attention to him—captions were always referring to them as Councilman Fischbach and his husband—but now that he’s gotten a name to the face, Logan’s words from earlier came back to him.

Married to the council’s demon representative.

“You killed my dad,” Virgil said, his voice flat and devoid of any hint towards his emotions.

Wil’s face fell, and his eyebrows furrowed. “I think you may have me mistaken with someone else. I would never—“

“You are Wilford Warfstache, yeah?”

Wil glanced at Damien, who shrugged back at him. He looked back at Virgil. “Yes, I am. I don’t see—“

“You killed my father. You murdered him.”

Wilford straightened up. “Now, see here, little boy, I don’t know what made you think that I killed your father, but I assure you—“

Damien butt in. “You did, Wilford. You did kill Virgil’s father, but it was an accident.”

Virgil opened his mouth to protest, but Damien fixed him with a cold glare.

“An accident?” Wilford asked, looking for confirmation from Virgil.

Clenching his jaw, and going against every particle of his being that wanted to set the record straight that there was nothing accidental about six stab wounds and a gunshot to the back of the head, Virgil nodded stiffly. 

Wilford smiled widely. “Well that’s good to hear! I wouldn’t want to be accused of murdering someone in cold blood. That would just be atrocious of me!” He clapped his hands together. “So! Off to dear old Isaac’s then?” 

Grabbing Virgil by the arm and taking Wilford’s hands in his own, Damien nodded. “Make it fast please, Wil. You’re domain makes me…disorientated.”


	14. Chapter 14

Logan’s head shot up at the first bang, far off in the distance. Seth hadn’t noticed it, his human senses not as sharp. Logan estimated it would take several minutes—based on the rate of the bangs getting steadily closer—for Seth to notice, and he hoped that human noticed before any of Goodman’s bodyguards showed up.

The trouble was that Logan didn’t know who was here to rescue them. He assumed it was definitely Virgil, but what if Fischbach had split them up again? Who knows—

That was a gunshot.

That.

Was.

A.

Gunshot.

“Oh no,” Logan muttered, catching Seth’s attention.

“What?”

“Damien Fischbach is extremely stupid sometimes.”

“What hap—“

“He called his fucking husband that’s what happened!”

Seth groaned. “We’re gonna get shot.”

Logan glanced at Seth out of the corner of his eye. “You know Wilford?”

Seth shrugged. “He still occasionally did jobs for Goodman after I got roped in. I just—he’s obviously unstable, but I don’t think he’s really crazy, y’know? He has some moments of lucidness. But I found it best to avoid him. Became more difficult once Bim and I started seeing each other.”

“How did you get roped in? You’re human. They aren’t usually involved in this world.”

“I-I’m not exactly human, but I”m not one of you either…It’s difficult to explain, and most of my people just stick to living as humans. Your people see us as humans so it makes it easy enough,” Seth sighed. “I got on the wrong side of the wrong people, and Goodman…he offered me an out. The only good thing that came out of it was Bim.”

“Bim really cares about you, huh?”

Seth smiled. “He’s quite possibly the best thing to have ever happened to me. He keeps me grounded, doesn’t let me fall into the despair that being a hitman can definitely bring about.”

Logan nodded, going silent to listen for the gunshots again. They were getting closer and closer together, louder too. Warfstache was definitely getting closer to them, but who knew who else was with him.

Then the screams started, followed by an extremely high pitched ringing that made Logan really wish he could cover his ears. It seemed Damien was also here—whether or not to reign in his husband remained to be seen.

Next to Logan, Seth was doing his best to press his head between his knees, trying to use his knees to muffle the whine. 

The door to the room flew open, violently banging against the wall hard enough to embed the doorknob into the dry wall. Isaac Goodman’s body was thrown into the room, several tendrils of Damien’s aura piercing it as soon as it hit the ground. 

Logan was too busy staring at Goodman’s body to notice Virgil shoving his way around Damien and Wilford until he suddenly found himself enveloped in his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Virgil said over and over, his voice cracking and his hair fading from it’s normal purple back to it’s natural brown. 

Arms bound behind him, Logan did his best to approximate a hug with his head, tucking it underneath Virgil’s head.

“Thank you for coming to get us,” Logan said, his voice muffled by Virgil’s neck. 

“Of course.”

Virgil worked to get both Logan and Seth untied, both thanking him when he was done. Logan also grasped Virgil’s hand in his own.

 

In the foyer of Goodman’s house—Logan still couldn’t believe that Goodman hadn’t been brought up on corruption chargers in the past, for flaunting the money he got from the wizards who backed him—De, the Host, and the Author—and Oliver but Logan didn’t know Oliver yet so he didn’t take much notice of him—were waiting for them. De looked pissed that he had been left behind the saving process, as did the Hot and the Author.

“Is he dead?” De asked.

Damien nodded, leaning against Wilford.

De smirked. “Good, let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”


	15. Chapter 15

A Year Later

Patton waved at Logan and Virgil walked into the restaurant. He got up as fast as he could, leaning heavily on the cane he had used since the accident, grimacing slightly. It had been a bad day, but he wasn’t going to keep it from seeing two of his favorite people. Well two favorite people besides his now husband. 

Once Logan was within arm’s reach, Patton pulled him into a one armed hug, gesturing at Virgil to come closer, and after letting Logan go, he pulled Virgil against him.

“How was the drive down?” he asked as he sat back down. ”Didn’t rain too much on you did it?”

Logan shook his head as he reached over the table to shake Roman’s hand. “It only rained for about thirty minutes, don’t worry.”

“That’s good.”

Virgil smiled contentedly, leaning against Logan, holding one of his hands in his lap. 

It had taken a couple months after the…incident…for Logan and Virgil to actually go out on a date—with a lot of prodding by Patton to get them there. They had taken things relatively slowly, keeping things just barely romantic, until they’d literally fallen into bed together.

Virgil had moved in with Logan a little over a month ago. Things hadn’t been super smooth—Virgil’s anxiety and Logan’s autism sometimes butted against each other in a way that caused misunderstandings, sometimes Logan’s too flat or not responsive enough to something Virgil has said, and then Virgil starts to spiral—but they make it work. They communicate; they work together; they do what they can to make things work. And so far it was working.

The night was calm, relaxed. Roman and Virgil snarked at each other—playfully, Roman had been working on not looking down on Virgil for being a wreath and Virgil had worked on not being too hostile towards Roman. There was a lot of work to do on that front, but they were getting it done.

Around the time dessert came, Virgil started absent mindedly stroking at his abdomen through his shirt, smiling contently as he did. He and Logan had found out a couple days after Vigil moved in, and the anxiety over a baby shadn’t quite set in yet.

Patton, of course, noticed Virgil’s little movements before Roman and started squealing, eyes locked on Virgil’s abdomen. Logan and Virgil both smiled at him, accepting that Patton was going full dad on them. Roman…didn’t quite get what was happening.

“I’m pregnant, Sir Sing-A-Lot,” Virgil said, his tone insinuating that this should be obvious, but there was an undercurrent of playfulness in it. 

Roman’s eyes widened, and his face broke out into a soft smile. “Congrats, Virgil.”

Virgil nodded. “Thanks.”

 

Two Years Later

Seth smiled down at the baby int he carrier on the floor. He’d always liked kids, and being able to be around Virgil and Logan’s was a delight. Little Lee was definitely in the top five cutest kids Seth had ever seen. A commotion in the kitchen prompted Seth to look up and see what was happening.

Bim and Logan were fighting over what looked like a pair salad tongs, their voices pitched low so as to not disturb the people in the family room (Seth, Virgil, Thomas, and the Host). Seth looked back at the others and shared a smirk with Thomas and Virgil.

It was honestly a miracle that everything had turned out alright after the kerfuffle. Logan seemed to think that Damien had somehow gotten the rest of the council members to look the other way, and Bim agreed that that’s probably what had happened. Either way, Seth was glad that it worked out alright. 

Seeing the others interact in such a lighthearted way, Seth got the feeling that the others felt the same way.


End file.
